


The Tell-Tale Part

by Measured



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Medical Procedures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5454818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like any couple, Heavy and Medic have typical minor disagreements, like how many organs Medic is allowed to implant inside of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Erikonil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erikonil/gifts).



> Canon typical gore, also mentioned Scout abuse and Medic violence towards other mercenaries. A treat for Erikonil in the TF2 Secret Santa.
> 
> Thanks to VampirePaladin for the beta.

Most of their meetings were across a hospital gurney which Medic had stolen somehow, through many of his caffeine-fueled midnight thefts. All of his furniture and implements had been lifted elsewhere; Mann co didn't give free hand outs. Heavy always kept a book in his back pocket, usually Dostoevsky, for the inevitable wait. By the swaying light, he'd finish chapters, while Archimedes cooed above, perched in the eaves. Medic would come an hour or two late, his arms full of new stolen birds and bodies, and with such a wild look in his eyes.

And his lips would always taste like blood.

This time, it was neither, though he was twice as messy. Red clung across his clothes, sunk so deep that no bleach would bring back the pristine white of his jacket. The bonesaw at his belt was still wet, stained darker than rust. 

"I brought a surprise," Medic said. He lifted the organ up, showing it off like some kind of trophy.

"Hmmm," Heavy said. Blood had even splattered over Medic's glasses, but he was so excited that he hadn't bothered to clean up, even if it made him sway drunkenly along the way, and bump into his metal walls and gurneys.

" _Ja!_ I got this beauty off of the black market. They even gave me a discount when I stabbed the salesman in the stomach. Ah, the way his intestines fell out, I wish I could've taken a picture of his face to show you. He was so surprised!" 

Heavy smiled with pride. Anyone who mistook his doctor for harmless wouldn't live very long.

"His companions were so surprised, they didn't even anticipate a saw in _their_ stomachs either. I got dozens of organs for the price of _none_!"

Medic burst out laughing. The organ was so fresh that Heavy almost expected to see one last beat and burst of fluids spill out from it.

"What is that for?" Heavy said.

"Oh this? Just an extra heart. They come in handy. But _this!_ " Medic placed the heart in the fridge, beside several bottles of beer. The Spy's head had been stolen away; He knew Miss Pauling suspected Soldier, though no proof had been found. 

He pulled out a different organ from his pocket. In the dim light, he hadn't noticed just how full of body parts every pocket was. Even the inner pockets of his coat, which usually held pocket-sized books, gifts Heavy had passed along over the years.

"This is for you, of course! I picked it out special. It's in very good condition, we could do _wonderful_ things with this." 

From this distance, he could only guess. Medic had taught him the words, and whispered in the bed about the wonders of anatomy. He could recite the names of blood vessels and organs and disorders without even a trace of accent.

"But Doctor, I already have kidneys. Or at least I think I still do," Heavy said. He instinctively felt his back, where years of fighting had left a mass of many scars. No new ones had formed since the last match.

"Oh, don't be silly. The other team's Scout is the one who I steal kidneys from in his sleep. His organs are nice and fresh, though I have to cut his tongue out, or he'll wake the others with his screaming. Sadly enough, it grows back. I've tried to bribe Miss Pauling into letting me stitch him up for his Respawn data, but she will not let me," Medic said. He pouted slightly at the memory.

Heavy said. He crossed his arms over his chest, and fixed Medic with an imposing glare which would've made lesser men tremble. "I do not need four kidneys."

"Oh, don't be silly. Sniper is the one who needs more kidneys. Besides, it isn't even a baboon uterus this time! Progress, yes?"

"I do not need." His voice was a low growl, but Medic didn't even flinch.

"Just give it a _chance_. With these new kidneys, you'll live twice as long. Well, provided that you survive the operation, but that's beside the point--Let me show you, you will see--"

Medic put his hand over Heavy's. Slowly he convinced Heavy to open his hands. The organ he put there, like a treasure, was still faintly warm.

Something in his gaze was so plaintive, that Heavy reconsidered. It was no surprise; he never could resist Medic for long, especially not when he was covered in blood.

"See? Brand new. Soon it'll be inside your body. There's another one in my pocket too," Medic said.

He looked down with such joy at his bloody pocket.

"Maybe you could live a hundred years more if the procedure is successful," Medic said. 

"You wish me to live long?" Heavy said. His harsh gaze softened. 

"Oh, the longest. If I could turn our bodies to steel and make us into mechanic creatures of death and desolation, I would, I truly would. _Ja,_ just imagine. Us causing a path of death and destruction years from now. I'd never want for body parts again, not with the amount of people you'd leave dead." 

"No one would escape," Heavy said with pride.

Medic let out a long, dreamy sigh. "Oh, our destruction will be so beautiful.. Maybe next we can discuss implanting those laser canons into your back. It'd be a great look on you. Organ implantation is revolutionary, but mixing science with mechanics is truly the way of the future. We could live for a hundred years or more, becoming like gods. Dread gods that will make the world fear us."

"You sound like Engineer now," Heavy said.

"Oh, well I made good use of the other team's Engineer, so maybe he's rubbing off on me. You know how much I hate to waste body parts, and they were just lying there," Medic said.

It was hard to resist a look like that, frenzied, and yet with such a giddy edge. In the end, he never could resist him, especially not when he was splattered with the blood of all the men he'd slaughtered.

"Go on. Give me all the organs you want. You are doctor--you know best."

"All I want? Really?"

He wasted little time, and climbed up on top of the gurney, the still-wet bonesaw clutched tight in his hand. He cut apart Heavy's shirt with a smirk. When he placed the saw at Heavy's chest, it was with such wonder and tenderness as the skin peeled back to reveal blood and flesh and bone. A little pain was nothing compared getting to see his doctor look so happy. Medic rested his hand on Heavy's heart.

"There you are, old friend. Just as beautiful as ever."

"Doctor, I do not think that is where kidneys are," Heavy said.

"Oh, we're taking the scenic route," Medic said.

He had known for many years that Medic owned his heart, he just didn't think it would be literal, or that Medic would feel the need to nestle against his body parts until his face was wet with blood, just to taste him, to feel his heartbeat that much closer.


	2. Atria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their pillow talk inevitably involves internal organs, and piles of bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon typical gore, also mentioned Medic violence towards other mercenaries and people. A treat for Erikonil in the TF2 Secret Santa. Related to The Tell-Tale Part, because once I started a paragraph about pillow talk, I couldn't help but write gory pillow talk.
> 
> According to a Russian-English dictionary, Blood vessels in Russian sounds like [this](http://en.bab.la/dictionary/russian-english/%D0%BA%D1%80%D0%BE%D0%B2%D0%B5%D0%BD%D0%BE%D1%81%D0%BD%D1%8B%D0%B9-%D1%81%D0%BE%D1%81%D1%83%D0%B4). 
> 
> Thanks to VampirePaladin for the beta.

Medic rested his head against Heavy's chest. Stripped down to sheets, lingering pleasure and sweat. The lights dimmed, there was only the faint scope of moonlight from a half-shuttered window. Heavy's fingers absently traced scars. Little failures, from knife wounds, to even swords. They were reminders of every time he'd turned to find himself alone on the battlefield, with nothing but Medic's broken body lying behind him.

"Your heartbeat is so fast. Perhaps you have Tachycardia, or an arrhythmia," Medic said, in a far too cheerful manner for one discussing something potentially deadly, but that was his way.

"This word is?"

"Tachycardia? It means a far too rapid heart-rate. One of the many possible heart issues, though with that new one, it shouldn't be a problem. I tested that heart thoroughly. If not, then I could always replace it. All I need is a fresh enough corpse, or someone not paying attention. Perhaps I will yell surprise as I take their organs. It'd be even better if I could find a birthday hat, or some kind of noisemaker..." Medic chuckled to himself at the joke. 

Medic traced his fingers over the scars, new and old that he'd left. Bite marks and scratches covered Heavy's chest, neck and arms. Medic always left a mark somewhere on him, like scraping out his name on Heavy's skin. The fingerprints just weren't always physical.

"Tachycardia," Heavy said, trying out the words. 

"Much closer this time," Medic said encouragingly. 

"It is no defect," Heavy said. He rested his hand at the juncture of Medic's neck. "Is you."

He smiled, then, on the edge of sleep and his frenzied, bloody dreams.

"The blood goes through your vessels, and it runs through each artery, to pump blood into your veins," Medic said. He rested his palm there, to feel every heartbeat.

"Say again?"

"Vessels?" Medic said.

Heavy pronounced it _wessels_ , testing out the word. He then repeated it in his native tongue.

"Ah, it sounds so beautiful and harsh that way," Medic said. He rested, almost dreamy in his languor. "Even deadly. Just like you."

He traced Heavy's lips with his thumb. "The average heart is seven ounces, but yours is much larger. It beats over hundred thousand times a day, and pumps over two thousand gallons of blood. Almost as much as you spill each day." The last words were said on a cheerful lilt.

"No, more," Heavy said. He kissed each fingertip, each callous of his hand. "Don't forget to count the blood you spill."

"Of course. We are a team, after all," he said. There was something so dangerous, so utterly merciless in the way he said it. Even at rest, he was still a killer.

His doctor, his bloodthirsty murderer. A man who could make grotesque art of whatever bodies he got his hands on, and could heal up the worst of wounds in his team.

"Tomorrow, we should spill enough blood for two hearts. Or maybe four," Medic said.

"Tomorrow, we will make a tower of bodies so large, the other team will not come out of the base," Heavy said.

"I like the way you think," Medic said.


End file.
